


The Bird and The Dragon

by Koriember



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Morality, Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 21:50:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5432042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koriember/pseuds/Koriember
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being the current Fell Dragon has its perks. It also involves being consumed by evil and killing his family, so to save himself, our tactician finds himself dusting off his cloak for a new campaign, 17 years later. Meeting a young Corrin whom he takes under his wing, Robin challenges his fate once more. Severa wants in, N-not that she really missed her father, or anything...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Better Places to Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Like my other story: When Tactics Collide, this is exported from FF.net

Better Places to Sleep

The first thing Robin felt when he awoke was the gentle prodding of the blunt end of a javelin into his side. The banner flown was quite Ylissean, to be certain.

The second, quite subsequently, was the not so gentle rocks jutting into his neck and back. The sedimentary state of said gravel was, to pinpoint, distinctly Ylissean coastline, not too far from the capital of Yllistol. The salty smell reinforced that claim, and Robin knew that he was not too far from water at the moment.

The final thing, Robin had never felt before. He stroked his chin, and the new sensation of facial hair caused him to formulate a conclusion of his where/when/why abouts quite quickly.

1\. Grima's dead, but here I am.

2\. I'm old as shit, if I hurt this badly and have this disgusting hair on my face.

3\. Cordelia is going to kick my ass.

With this revelation newly archived, Robin decided that lying spread eagle on the shoreline was not the ideal battle formation and thus got up disregarding his visitor.

At least, until the javelin quickly rotated danger-side-in-his-face towards the tactician. Robin followed the shaft, up the armored arm, past the plate mail where two distinctly white pigtails accompanied by a most definitely hostile smirk stared him down.

Severa.

Also, his daughter.

Also, pissed and a lot older than he remembered.

It had been a good amount of time indeed if his own daughter from the future had taken on this look. She showed no signs of age, but her composure, her stern facial expressions, and her weathered hands... Severa was not a girl anymore. She was a woman, and a beautiful, strong woman that brought a smile to Robin's face as to what his genetics combined with Cordelia's would turn out to be.

But still his daughter.

Never anything less than his daughter, no matter what timeline she may hail from.

Robin turned, staring the knight up and down before boring into her maroon eyes with his own. Time to play coy.

"Hi sweetie, you wanna help your old man up?" The ashen-haired Pegasus Knight laughed before she knelt to Robin's face.

"Old man? Sure. You're pretty ripe, I guess." She paused, staring him up and down, before adding, "But 'Your'? My father died a hero. He wouldn't need my help with anything."

Robin guessed Severa was in her 30's and judging by her fit physique and the banner on her newly acquired Pegasus, she'd been busy. He crawled backwards and shuffled to his knees slowly, hands up. No need to be entirely carefree with a sharp javelin not too far away from turning his intestines into fertilizer.

"I... I guess that sounds about right." Standing to his feet, he watched as Severa's eyes squinted as she imagined what that face of his would like if it were clean shaven. For punctuation, Robin also inquired, "But how about you help me as to why my daughter's give or take 15 years older than what I remembered?" Robin smirked as he saw Severa's lips part slightly and whisper, no damn way before she dropped her spear and giggled loudly, tackling her father to the ground.

"You bastard! You're strong enough to slay a god but you couldn't have come back earlier!?" Tears, Robin noted, especially the heartfelt ones from his daughter after being gone for as long as she'd been alive, were quite reassuring to the fact that, yes, he was actually home.

"Yes... Yes I'm back." Robin hugged her tightly, noting the faint juniper he smelled in her sweet hair. He wiped the tears from her eyes and grinned along with his daughter as he held the embrace just a bit longer before he backed her up and examined how his daughter had matured.

"You're just as beautiful as I remembered." Severa blushed and scoffed before returning the favor.

"Oh please, my future self is like 4 years younger than you."

"5 actually."

"And you definitely don't look too young with a messy goatee."

"Pah, age is just a number. Yours is..." Severa laughed as she plucked his beard.

"34."

"Hoooly shit." Robin coughed nervously, quickly doing the math in his head. "Assuming you're future Severa, given that I haven't made biological Severa..."

"17 years Dad. I c-counted each day." More tears, The tactician was quick to deflect them though.

"Sorry I couldn't come home sooner."

"You're home dad. You're incredibly late," Severa pouted, "But you're home." Robin stared over at the Pegasus.

"I'll give you three guesses as to what her name is." She rearranged her hair happily, just as white as her mount.

"And If I get it right?" Robin teased with a grin.

"I'll help you for once." Severa giggled, while mounting it expertly, "Getting home, I mean."

"Well, Robin," Robin patted the Pegasus gently, admiring its pure white coat, "I'd like to visit home." Severa grinned as she helped her father mount, and giving a sharp command, Robin felt the air rush beneath him, along with his stomach, as the ground he was just lying down on 10 minutes ago quickly sped into indistinguishable brown.

"Why the sudden change from Mercenary to Knight?" Robin opened, already guessing the answer.

"Well Mom's perfect bones got too old, so I deserved a second try."

"You're certainly quite good at it." At the word good, Severa stuttered before she fumed straight forward.

"Hmph, It's not l-like I trained 10 years on it to be just g-good."

"Is that so?' Robin challenged, to which the knight scoffed.

"Of course! I mean, I just found you on a whim, right?" Robin stopped, his thought process clearly not deriving Severa's reasons on being here anyway.

"Wait. Where are we?"

"I... I don't know."

"And you supposedly found me on a whim?"

"..."

"Severa... What are you doing here?" The knight looked downwards, her smile dissipating.

"I... Morgan and Marc have done so much compared to me... But they couldn't find you. So much crap has gone while you were gone... So when I felt your presence return? I couldn't believe it. The twins couldn't either. So that's why I flew off on a whim, in the general direction that I felt your spirit come back! I'm the one that felt you, not them!"

"What do you mean, felt?" Severa looked back at him in confusion.

"You mean you haven't done it before?"

"What," Robin asked.

"But you're the one who bears Gri- His... Spirit the strongest! Shouldn't you be closest to Naga's power?"

"I'm not exactly tracking, Sev. Is that about Grima?"

"Dad... Don't you realize it now?"

"What?! Just stop beating around the bush and-"

"If you're back and still alive... You're the fell dragon now."

Robin rested his head on his daughter's back while he was lost in his own thoughts. In the meantime, Severa kept up the conversation, still excited on seeing her father once more.

"King Chrom has been looking for you for about 10 years before he issued the decree that you weren't coming back. He holed up in the castle for a good week before the funeral, and we gathered every Shepherd and Shepherd's child before we laid your spirit to rest. Mom didn't even bother showing up, and she brought me along the day of your burial to go look for you. Even while the country was in mourning." Robin smiled sadly at his wife's actions. Ever since he married her, he had been the center point of her world. Every breath and exhale was for his existence, and she was the most vocal in letting Chrom strike the killing blow against Grima.

The most vocal on never letting Robin go.

* * *

 "RETURN TO ME. WE ARE ONE AND THE SAME!" Robin winced as he stood back to back with Cordelia, who was dismounted due to the battle. Chrom stood opposite him with Lucina. Two Falchions, a Levin Sword, and a Lance formed a diamond of death around Grima, but he did not pay any heed except to the Shepherd that his visage mirrored.

"We will end your terror, fell dragon!" Chrom shouted confidently.

"I lost to you once, devil. My future... Our future, depends on my blade piercing your heart!" Lucina's hands shook as she finally lay within striking range of her father's killer.

Robin lay silent, staring Grima alone, no other thing mattered in this very moment. Not his wife, not his best friend, and not his children, who lay injured in the back. It was just him versus a god, and he was going to save everyone. And he would die happy with that revelation.

Noticing her husband relaxing slightly, Cordelia too steeled herself for a fight.

"You may share his face, his voice, and his name, devil... But he will not SHARE YOUR END!"

Grima laughed, drawing in a purple aura before unleashing a deafening scream.

"ARROGANT MORTALS. I AM YOUR END! I AM-" A slight whoosh followed by a sinking sound rang as Robin's Levin Sword lay embedded in Grima's neck, forcing the god to gurgle on his own blood. Instantly after, both the Exalted Falchion and the Parallel Falchion made mirroring paths through Grima's side, causing him to fall to his knees, arms eviscerated.

"Chrom... Cordelia..." Robin stepped forward, opening his Thoron. "This is it."

"Don't do it Robin!" Cordelia warned, and turning to Chrom, "Well? That sword is the only way to kill Grima! Do it, 'King!'"

"Think of your family Robin," Lucina added, "You've invested far too much just to die now!" Robin sighed, backing up and closing his tome, dropping it and letting it fly away as the fell dragon sped faster beneath them.

"You're right." He looked at Grima disdainfully, "No shepherd dies today... Not even me." Robin looked at his king sadly, and nodded.

"Chrom..." The King stepped up and pointed his sword clean between Grima's eyes.

"This sword may not give you death, but it will save our world from the likes of your machinations."

"F-foolish mort...tal." Grima closed his eyes wincing for his defeat.

"Luckily, I can't kill you." Chrom quietly said.

"Luckily, for the rest of us, I can."

"NOW CHROM!" Instantly, Chrom threw Robin Falchion and tackled Cordelia to the ground, just as Robin ran up to Grima, catching Falchion with both hands before rearing to swing the holy blade.

"You may be wondering what a vessal of Grima may be thinking holding Naga's tooth."

"We both know you can't hurt me with a sword meant for the E-exalt..." Grima spat.

"Naga sends her regards."

Robin closed his eyes as lightning and fire coursed his hands, Grima's power combining with Naga's to deliver the strike that would kill a god. He smiled viciously as his clean stroke decapitated his doppelganger, the body falling to his right as the head flew into the dark beyond. He turned, watching as Cordelia overpowered Chrom with a punch to the jaw. She subsequently vaulted past Lucina to Robin, sobbing into his coat.

"You bastard! You said... Forever..." Robin held his wife's head one last time, whispering into her ear just as he faded.

"I intend on coming back. It's up to you to find me."

* * *

 

 For 17 years, she didn't.

* * *

 

Cordelia hummed casually as she took inventory of the cooking ingredients in her kitchen, marking each item in sequence on the checklist. Noting that her stock on chicken was still a few short, she remembered she sent Severa on a 'mission' to retrieve some from the market. She should've arrived an hour ago, but there was no rush.

Sighing, she washed some more vegetables, wiping her wet hands on the front of the tactician coat she wore. Her husbands coat, among the few memoirs of his death that she held close to her heart, was her usual garb, long forgoing the knight armor and bodice or the white dress she wore sometimes. Just a coat, a worn Levin Sword, and a library of books were all Cordelia had of her husband.

That and three wonderful children from the future, just a few years younger than her.

At 39, the former knight was blessed with children just like most other Shepherds, but obviously with her husband's deat- No... departure she could not have the biological equivalents. Then again, having another teenage Severa would kill her slightly sooner...

Speak of the devil, she heard the slight landing of the Pegasus as it dropped behind the house.

"Severa! Did you grab the chickens?" Severa peeked her head in the curtain separating kitchen from outdoors, before nodding, giggling sheepishly.

"Well they were out of chickens, so I had to settle for the next fowl poultry on the list." Cordelia scratched her head, seeing nothing in her hands. Severa fumed and excused herself as she peeked back outside.

"Uh, Severa, the market just received stock from the farmer's sales yesterday." Cordelia frowned as her daughter stared outside, clearly entranced with something not in the kitchen. She opened her mouth to say something but her daughter's shouts interrupted her.

"I SAID, THE NEXT FOWL POULTRY ON THE LIST!" Huh?

'Oh, that's my cue!' Cordelia heard a voice say, not recognizing it.

Another head peeked into the kitchen, a stranger's visage for just a few moments to Cordelia. Then all of a sudden, the coat, the hair, those eyes... She hadn't seen those eyes... Until...

"You know, a Robin isn't exactly poultry-" A red blur tackled him into the ground, followed by rapid fluttering kisses and finished with a slap to the face.

"ROBIN!?"

"Yes? Mmph-" Robin shared a deep kiss with his wife before grinning sheepishly into her bright red eyes.

"Sorry I'm late."


	2. The Exalt

The Exalt

It didn't take long for word to spread that the Tactician of Ylisse had returned more than a decade after his supposed 'death.' Such news brought fear that Grima had returned as well, but such rumors remained scarce in comparison to the actual good news.

As for Robin himself, he was sleeping in a rather undignified position with Cordelia sprawled barely dressed on top/next to him. Just like always, Cordelia was the first to stir awake and as such quickly got dressed and got to setting the day's plans in motion. Then again, her plans had been shattered by the return of her husband, who after 17 years had quite a bit of catching up to do with her.

And the kids.

And the Shepherds.

Preferably in that order.

Considering when the last time they slept together they were 22, Cordelia was still quite exhausted and was very tempted to go back to bed. Looking at who occupied said bed, she decided that that was a sin she would have to make. Quickly looking for her daughter who was already up to retrieve her other children, she caught up with Severa, not hesitating as she quickly rattled off the morning's preparations, mostly involving Robin's breakfast and Robin's second breakfast, along with other quick chores that her daughter was likely not going to do anyway. Watching as her daughter took off, she quickly transitioned to more important duties.

And she went back to sleep.

* * *

Severa gawked at the 23 page itinerary she had written down from her mother's demands. 14 of those pages involved something involving her father's breakfast, something she didn't mind doing at all. She loved to cook, but first, she needed some help, which happened to coincide with her actual duty of picking up Morgan and Marc. Mounting her Pegasus, she took off for the capitol about 20 minute's flight away.

As a knight, and first in command of the wing of knights that protected the Halidom, Severa often visited the capitol but preferred the peaceful hills of her house with her mother. Obviously, when duty called, she had her own room in the castle, not too far from the Shepherd's barracks, but it sparingly saw her company as the knight preferred her home. Today would be one of those days, as there would be a certain set of individuals she needed to retrieve.

There on the first floor lived a certain set of not-so-young-anymore-tacticians that needed to assist with her chores. Plus her father had been excited to see her younger siblings again, which Severa fumed at. Not that she was jealous, or anything.

* * *

The way the Morgan twins originally differentiated their names was in fluctuation of the last syllable. The female Morgan tended to pronounce her own name as a Mor-GAN and as such responded and was recognized with that sound. Likewise, the Male Morgan preferred a Mor-GIN which was pretty close to his sister but still discernible.

Eventually, especially on the battlefield, this confusion ran so high that Morgin decided to rename himself Marc, which no one debated. Robin and Cordelia questioned why they would name their future twins the same thing, anyway. So, Marc and Morgan were the tactician's twins, as Lucina made a poor attempt at joking about.

Their hairstyles were slightly similar in that they were messy and met in the middle of their forehead but aside from that, Morgan shared the same deep red hair as her mother, while Marc had ashen white hair like his older sister and his father. Morgan wore her father's tactician's robe when Cordelia wasn't, while Marc usually dressed in Ylissean guardsman armor, which consisted of a simple tunic and breastplate, forgoing the shoulder plates in favor of a bandoleer. Minus his white hair, he could pass as a common knight in training, if not for his magical aura.

* * *

Severa landed on the garden of the castle, a couple meters before the gate. Patting Robin (Pegasus) as she dismounted she hurriedly made her way inside. Even though she was dressed in common house clothes today, the guards still recognized her as a senior Pegasus Knight and gave her all the courtesies her station demanded. Taking one of the guards aside, she asked quietly where the Morgans were holed up this week.

Unfortunately, being the children of a perfectionist prodigy along with a magically-attuned god, the Morgan twins and Severa to a smaller extent had a large grasp over the arcane arts. Such arts had succeeded in incinerating half of the east castle floor along with countless texts and tomes that belonged to the twins' first room. Being instructors of the Ylistol college of magic, their fellow students Noire and Nah would accompany the twins more often than not in evaporating public property.

Thankfully, that day was not today, as Severa could tell that nothing was on fire yet, and she was going to retrieve them before they could change her claims.

The guard pointed out one of the far end rooms where the Morgan's bunked and mentioned that they should be awake by now.

Severa, ever so polite, picked the locked door and peeked inside, where Marc lay sprawled on the floor with a Thoron tome on his face while Morgan sat on her desk, etching down formations that could be used in future battles. Noticing their elder sister, both Morgans smiled and eased her on in, gesturing at her to be quiet.

"Good morning you two, I assume you've heard the news? Ah, what am I kidding, you probably started the rumor!" Marc grinned cheek to cheek, barely able to contain his excitement even as a 33 year old man.

"Call my priorities skewed, but I have so many new spells and strategies to teach- I mean show Dad!" Morgan laughed quietly and placed her arms on her chair in a lounging fashion.

"I can't believe we couldn't feel him." Morgan complained, more upset than jealous.

"I don't know how I did honestly," Severa admitted, "But it's more surprising that I was correct!"

"Are you sure it's actually him Sev? I mean, I know it's him, but how did he even get here? I mean, did he age? And if not that means we're older than him now! And if he didn't age, that means he was trapped in existence somewhere for 17 years! Think about that!" Severa shook her head, not wanting to think too deeply into the realms of trans dimensional teleportation and other aspects of time-warping and mind-fuckery.

"I'm sure, and to prove it, you both are coming back home with me to help make Dad's breakfast." Marc winced, while Morgan sighed sadly, closing her tomes and weighing her options.

"Was mom in charge?" Morgan stuttered quietly, to which Severa nodded, causing the twins to grimace.

"Show me the list, Sev," Marc asked, to which Severa handed him all 14 pages of food to make for their father.

"Damn, it's like we're running inventory for a Shepherd sortie." Severa laughed while plopping down on the ground next to Marc.

"Judging how fast word spreads, we might as well be preparing for an invasion today at home. You might as well be there to seal off the door entrances and to make sure Mom doesn't kill Dad." Morgan smiled and blushed, thinking of her mother completely- She winced and shook her head.

"How bad was it last night?" She asked with a grin.

"I'm running on zero sleep," Severa admitted, "I went 'for a run' at 11 and when I came back at 2 and they were still at it... Ugh."

"Anyway, help us get set so we can step off! We still gotta settle the... you know... Owain and Inigo..."

"Don't remind me," Severa groaned, picking up a few books and Morgan's robe before heading out the door. "I'm in the usual spot."

Finished packing, the Morgan twins finally got out the door, locked it securely, and followed Severa back to Robin, where she whinnied at seeing her other two caretakers. Marc was a proficient cavalier, especially with a lance or a sword, but when it came to flying he inherited his father's motion sickness. Morgan, on the other hand loved to fly even more than Severa but held lackluster talent behind the reigns. All three of them mounted and began to fly back home to start the chore of cooking for Robin.

* * *

Cordelia lay on her bedroom floor, staring blankly into the ceiling. She was alone, once again the sole survivor of her group. Once, it was her Pegasus Knight squad, and now, it was her union with Robin. Both times heading bravely into combat, she was the only member to come out alive.

She relived the nightmare of yesterday, going through the steps in the gruesome slow motion.

If only she was faster, if only...

Ugh.

Robin backed off, raising Thoron to strike.

Chrom raised Falchion. He should've swung right there, decapitated that bitch.

Chrom tossed Falchion and tackled her. She should've evaded that and grabbed Falchion and swung, something...

Robin charged a spell from his own hands and swung. She could've stopped him.

The sword struck flesh.

Ugh.

And now due to her incompetence her husband had disappeared along with the source of evil in all of Yllisse, Valm, and Plegia.

It was a price too high. Call her selfish, but it was too steep a punishment to be left alone. She would rather be in a family fighting for her world than living in its peace without them.

Severa and the twins were crying in their own rooms, and search parties had gone out across the lands to find their beloved tactician.

She knew they wouldn't come back with good news.

He made certain of that.

She made certain of that...

_ThudThudThud_

"Cordelia, are you in there?" Chrom, that bastard. He knocked again, calling her name. Cordelia picked up her lance from beside her bed and threw it purposely between and slightly below where Chrom's legs would be. Judging by the ' _OHSHIT'_  and the rapid falling of armor and body, she knew she hit her mark, or slight lack thereof.

"You have three seconds to get the hell away," She warned viciously, drawing the Levin Sword that her husband used to own. Lightning and steel crackled in her hands as she aimed it at the door. Chrom had no idea what was happening just feet away and decided to turn the knob.

"Look, we're going to find him, alright? You're not the only one that misses him." Chrom opened the door and barely ducked out of the way of Cordelia's swing. The sword she wielded embedded itself in the doorway and sparks flew as lightning hit wood and started a small fire.

"Ah shit," Chrom sighed as he ripped off his cape and started putting out the flame. Unluckily, Cordelia had no mercy for the King and pulled out the sword, swinging wildly yet expertly again at Chrom, this time nicking his thigh and causing him to jolt in pain.

"Can yo-urgh, can you stop for five seconds?" Chrom drew his sword and held Falchion in a parrying stance just in case she were to swing again. Chrom took this time to examine the fallen Pegasus Knight. Half her armor was still lying on the floor, her hair was as disheveled as Stahl's on a rainy day after combat, and her eyes were as bloodshot as her hair, and twice as stressed.

"You look like utter crap." Cordelia sighed and dropped the sword, wiping the tears and sweat from her hands. She was tempted to fall on her knees and pretend to lean into Chrom's shoulder so she could stab in the back, but she deemed that was unwise.

"You're an utter piece of crap, letting my husband die." Chrom visibly flinched, his eyes faltering a split second.

"We both know it's what he wanted."

"You could've stopped him."

"I could've, but I'm fully capable in his ability to come back. I'm confident that my... OUR bond with him, is enough to bring him back home."

"He better, or I swear, 'King,' Lucina is going to see the throne a lot sooner than she's expecting." Chrom squinted visibly, the threat sinking in with its own legitimacy.

"Are you... threatening me? Cordelia?"

"No. I'm promising you," The knight replied with venom.

"I... See. You would have a good reason to kill me th-" Cordelia double tracked and her shoulders lost their rage. Staring at the ground glumly, her countenance dropped from adrenaline and anger to sheer fatigue.

"I'm sorry, Chrom... It's just, this war... It's taken away everything from me... My fellow knights, my friends, my husband... At least my kids are still here." Cordelia shoulders fell and her eyes closed as she slowly backed away from Chrom.

"I'll send over Severa and Morgan..." Chrom left slowly, closing what was left of the door shut as he backed away and turned to face the soldiers behind him. "Let's go."

Owain and Inigo looked at each other, having just witnessed their uncle/father getting anally fisted by Severa's mother, not sure whether words were necessary for this moment. Chrom trudged ahead of them, the nick on his thigh a subtle reminder that Robin's loss hurt someone more than even him.

* * *

Marc and Morgan were asleep on the ground when Owain and Inigo walked in their room, while Severa lay next to what was left of her side of the room's wall, a multitude of gashes and stabs evident providing crude ventilation, both towards Severa's anger and to the room itself. Her sword lay by her side, stabbed into the ground while its owner lay sprawled on her bed, face in her pillow.

Owain cleared his throat to get their attention, while Inigo just timidly hid behind his cousin. The blonde swordsman scratched his head, trying to determine how to politely wake/stir his comrades awake. Severa beat him too it, rolling over and showing just as red eyes as her mother. However, she was much more hostile and threw her sword almost instantly, embedding itself in the wall behind Inigo.

"How does it feel, you bastards?" Severa gritted out, her tone more menacing than Grima himself.

"I don't understand Severa?" Owain replied cautiously.

"How does it feel, waking up this morning to both your father and mother within touching distance!? BOTH OF YOU?" Her yelling stirred Marc up suddenly, while Morgan merely craned her head upwards.

"I can't... Severa, I'm sorry but-" Inigo tried to comfort her but Severa immediately retorted with words far sharper than the sword behind him.

"No apology is going to bring him back... No. Naga said herself that if the bond I SHARED WITH MY OWN FATHER WAS STRONG ENOUGH I... We... He would still be here..." She smashed her head back into her pillow and sobbed violently into the sheets, her shoulders convulsing with grief and anger.

"He will..."

"No... Not again..." Severa sobbed, "THE ONLY REASON I CAME BACK WAS TO REUNITE MY FAMILY AGAIN! NOT FOR STUPID CHROM AND SAVING THE WORLD! I DON'T CARE ABOUT THAT! I..." She faltered again.

"What good is a saved world... when you can't live in it... with those you loved most..." Severa closed her eyes, wailing even as her younger siblings comforted her.

"Severa, Morgan... Your mother wants to see you... When you're ready." Inigo left the room, gesturing for Owain to follow him. Owain nodded and took a step, but decided to turn around. He walked cautiously towards Severa and wrapped her in a tight hug for just a split second, causing the crying teenager to halt and open her eyes in confusion. Seeing Owain, she considered pulling out her knife and stabbing him, but she merely nodded and returned to her prone position. Owain left, not before patting Marc on the back reassuringly, and another hug to Morgan, this one slightly longer. Turning back to Severa, he smiled with confidence.

"You kept him alive Severa, that part is certain... You just have to bring him back now."

* * *

Severa sighed before adjusting her hair; most of the cooking was completed by her, mainly due to the twins trying to peek on their parents. Even though they were in their 30's, Severa at 34 and Morgan and Marc at 33, they still acted like children even 17 years later, mainly due to the dark backgrounds they had. Well, as childish as their station allowed. Professors of higher learning and a Lieutenant of the Pegasus Knights warranted very little room for such occasions, but their youthfulness was still apparent.

"Hey, Sev," Marc began, cleaning up the ingredients left over from the cooking.

"What's up?"

"Do you think Dad will approve?" Severa shrugged, not knowing the topic of approval.

"Depends what's to approve." Severa mouthed an 'oooh' and nervously laughed.

"...Her?" Severa coughed nervously, thoughts now manifesting themselves into her head. The door behind them opened, revealing both a sleepy Cordelia, but even better yet, a sleepy Robin. Marc and Morgan quickly turned around, eyes widening and jaws dropping as their father for the first time than when they've been alive stood less than 10 feet away.

"FATHER!" They yelled simultaneously, running up to him and hugging him to the ground. They were both just a tad shorter than him, but still enough to easily make him lose his footing.

"Ugh... Hey Morgan! Marc! Hahaha, ugh, you guys grew up too huh..." Robin reminded himself that the war against Grima ended when he was 22, Morgan 16. Time was relative, after all. At least, at whatever pocket dimension he was stuck in.

"You missed our birthday by a week, but we cooked enough breakfast to celebrate!" Marc grinned over his handiwork, or at least Severa's handiwork, said daughter standing cross-armed and smiling on the far end of the kitchen.

"Wow... That's, that's quite a bit of food." Robin scratched his head. There was enough food here to last him another 17 year stay in the abyss. He quickly shook that thought out of his head and gestured towards the table. "Well? I haven't eaten a good breakfast in 17 years! Might as well start now."

The family sat down as conversation started almost immediately, in between bites of food and sips of milk.

"First things first, Dad, where were you exactly?" Morgan asked, trying to solve the dilemma she had thought of this morning.

"I have no idea really... The last moments were me casting a spell, and then all of a sudden I'm asleep on some Ylissan coast.

"So it couldn't have been another world... Maybe. At least it couldn't have been one that sustained your consciousnesses."

"Calm down Morgan, we're eating breakfast here, not solving the mystery of time travel." Marc grinned at that, blurting in suddenly.

"ACTUALLY, Dad I did that five years ago." Robin choked on his slice of melon abruptly, shocked at his own son's discovery.

"Uh, we'll talk later, nerd." Marc shook his head happily and continued eating.

"So... since you guys are old farts like me now, how's the nest?"

"Severa's still single!" Marc and Morgan blurted out, as the ashen haired female blushed intensely.

"Morgan and Marc live at the castle both to instruct their students and... uh, personal issues," Cordelia explained, with both their twins nodding.

"I'm actually planning to marry Owain next year... We've dated for a while and uh..." Morgan blushed, thinking of her fiance quite farther in depth than breakfast deemed appropriate. Robin considered it and shrugged.

"I'll talk to the kid later. What's your guys' title anyway?"

"Professors of magic, blah blah," Marc offered casually.

"Anything else?" Cordelia pressed, smirking faintly. Marc looked at her pleadingly, then to Severa, then to Morgan, finally to Robin.

"I'm uhh... Also..."

"You're single too huh?" Robin laughed, not expecting his son to inherit his seduction quotient.

"I'm next in line to the Throne of Ylisse."

Robin spat out what was in his mouth and nearly stabbed himself with his cutting knife. Discovering time travel? Robin would've given him that, he was a smart kid. Professor of magic? Of course, he was his son after all.

But a Prince of the Halidom? Oh gods, Oh gods, Oh gods.

"B-but... Marc, that means... You, and Lucina?"

"Yep."

* * *

"So let me get this straight, Marc," Chrom sat across from Marc intently, Frederick standing on one end of him and Lucina nervously on the other.

"You summon my attention with an emergency, and here I am thinking that Robin has returned, or your mother needs help, or some village is being attacked. And here I am ready to dispatch the Shepherds or call for Naga's aid..."

_I might need both._

"Yes, Lord Chrom. I think this is rather urgent."

"My daughter is quite important, yes, but c'mon now, I knew you two were dating for a while." Marc grinned sheepishly, not sure whether this mood change was welcome. "You're on the brink of turning back time, and you're possibly the most powerful magician Ylisse has ever seen."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that..." Marc offered humbly.

"M'lord if I may, but Marc has cast spells from Lissa's diary, M'lords envelopes, and the Shepherd's Roster, not to mention his breakfast," Frederick offered.

"Exactly my point. I trust you with Lucina, Marc, that much is apparent. You're Robin's son after all. My best friend's son, marrying my daughter. I'm perfectly fine with that."

"Then it's okay if we-" Chrom shook his head quickly, offering his little caveat before he gave his blessing.

"You have fell dragon blood in your veins, and Lucina the blood of the Exalt." Marc had never thought of this before, but he still had faith.

"Father, the fell dragon is dead, Robin made sure of that." Lucina offered.

"But his blood still runs deep through your veins Marc, even if it is dormant. The blood of the Exalt slayed the Fell Dragon. I have no desire to see what would happen to you or your child when those two bloodlines mix."

"Lord Chrom, I have no answer but to say to trust us. My father, with the help of M'lord and his allies... And I, defeated his own bloodline and produced three children! Granted, Mother's blood isn't holy or sanctified but it is still human!"

"She just gave birth to three of the most powerful humans to grace this planet besides the hero king himself and your father."

"Lord Chrom, your bloodline will easily overpower whatever contamination my stream contains, if any. Lucina is strong as well!" Lucina blushed, relaxed now that the initial question had been dealt with. She rubbed her wedding band reassuringly.

"I... Ugh. You know what, I'll give it a shot. But the moment Lucina seems to be in danger, I'm sorry Marc-"

"I understand M'lord." Chrom stood up and patted the tactician's head sharply. Gesturing Frederick to follow, he muttered something about paperwork and kids before exiting. Lucina grinned at him, still weirdly, but genuinely.

"That... Went better than I expected," Marc decided, embracing his fiance against his body.

"You realize what this makes you right?" Lucina asked.

* * *

"The future Exalt, my own son?" Robin was honestly at odds whether to be impressed or scared at his own son.

"That job still belongs to Lucina, I'm afraid," Morgan giggled, "Luckily Marc still gets to be King for a day... Or however long your reign is before you end up incinerating Regna Ferox or something."

Robin decided that now was a very good time to catch up on literally everything he missed.

"You two... don't develop any weird uh... Developments while I'm gone. I'll be back tonight." Morgan and Marc stared in confusion, as to why their father was leaving so soon.

"Where are you going?"

"WE, meaning Severa and I, are travelling back to Ylisstol and I'm going to see what has happened."

"And where do you think your wife is going to be?" Cordelia asked with a pout." Robin winked at her knowingly.

"You'll get your time." Cordelia blushed and immediately turned away from her children, who groaned. Severa was insanely excited but of course, she wouldn't show it in public.

"And what makes you think anything changed while you were gone?" She asked coyly.

"I might not know much dear, but everything changes in 17 years. Well, except how amazing my family is."


	3. The Sword By My Side

The Sword by my Side

* * *

 

The air rushed fast enough past Robin that it made his ears sting in the cold wind, so he hid behind the body of his daughter as the Pegasus raced through the sky to better shield his head. Looking closely at her armor, he realized he had seen this particular pattern of engraving before, likewise with the fabric on the skirt and boots.

Just, on someone else.

Could it be?

"Where'd you get this armor?" Robin asked curiously. Severa sighed and craned her neck to face him slightly. Her slight grin was visible, lined with both pride and mischief.

"When mom hung up the lance, I kinda... stole the whole package when I took it up. I mean, what's a knight without armor? I had to look like my work amounted to something more than riding a winged horse, right? Mom didn't mind. She said, well after the rant about me stealing it, that it looks great on me, minus the breastplate. She wanted it fixed as a reminder of her false obsession with Chrom."

Robin noticed that the chest plate had been altered to a slimmer less obtuse shape, clearly in disdain of her mother's deceptive armor's purpose. The rest of it was maintained expertly, though Robin noticed she intentionally left the nicks and scratches from its original owner's campaigns, perhaps as a sign of gratitude or remembrance towards her mother's devotion to her sisters in arms. Still, he didn't want to stare at his daughter's chest, but he imagined Cordelia wearing the same armor, fighting by his side. If only she didn't have that distracting breastplate, she would've been as perfect in battle regalia as her soul was.

"Ah, I never understood her logic behind it either," Robin admitted. Granted, she wasn't exactly gifted in the buxom department, but Cordelia was still immensely beautiful in her own way...

Severa fumed as her father started daydreaming, pouting quietly as she turned her attention back to the front. Just one mention of Cordelia and he was already in his own little world... Just in time, Ylisstol made itself visible in the horizon, so Severa started making her descent. Robin noticed this and stared at the castle intently. The last time he was in there was when they departed for their conquest of Valm.

_It's been such a long time..._

"Who's there right now?" Robin wondered aloud, anticipating the infinite number of reunions he was about to have.

"Well actually, the new Shepherds have been out on sortie, you know, Inigo, Gerome, Nah, Noire, Cynthia, Owain..." Robin winced at his new son-in-law's name. "Yarne, Laurent, Kjelle, Brady, et cetera. I join them when the Morgans are busy, but usually Morgan is the team leader and on super super special occasions, Lucina joins up with us, accompanied by that pimping son of yours."

"What's their mission's objective?" Robin asked, ignoring Severa's snide remark towards Marc.

For starters it's involving exploration beyond the borders of the entire continent. I mean, it makes sense if Valm is to our west and the Radiant Hero bears from somewhere to out north... What other legends are there to discover? What lands, what knowledge can we divulge from our surroundings? N-not like it matters to you Dad... You're probably too tired to care what's out there."

"The only thing that matters is my family. But, if I may ask, how do the Shepherds expect to go thousands of miles across seas and deserts and jungle, and expect them to return safely?" Severa anticipated this and fired back instantly, smiling from her father's initial statement.

"Luckily, Morgan's been at work perfecting some sort of teleportation magic, you know, like mage blinking but on a much farther and time consuming scale. With enough concentration, she could probably warp you to some random field in Plegia in a blink of an eye if you give her enough Elixir. You might also find yourself partially embedded in a mountain, which is also quite equally sudden."

Robin coughed nervously, rather impressed with his daughter but at the same time skeptical that the New Shepherds would use an ability so unrefined... Unless of course...

"And how important is this mission that Chrom would insist upon it?"

"Enough that Frederick scrambled most of the Shepherds moments after Lady Naga manifested herself in the Throne Room, a few inches away from death, muttering something about, 'More than just Grima.'"

* * *

Princess Lissa, the title far too youthful for her age of 36, watched the passerby as she made idle chatter with the woman across from her; Morgan. Although nearly 17 years had passed since the events of the Fell Dragon, her ladylike manner and appearance still had room for a number of undignified behaviors.

One of them being gossiping.

Another one being giggling.

Both of which birds that were being slain by her metaphorical stone. And discreetly at that, as the table they sat on was right across from Chrom's study and Lucina's bedroom, which was on the throne room floor overlooking all of the bustle in and out of the castle.

"And what I've heard from both Marc and you, Severa is still interested in Owain! Looks like you beat her to the prize, eh?" Morgan blushed heavily, and even at her older age the prospect of romance was both foreign and strange. Theoretically speaking, she had only lived in memory of the last 18-19 years of her life, or whenever she appeared to the Shepherds along with Marc when the Plegian campaign was still heavily in course, so romance at this mental state of her life was a given.

"Owain always thought as Severa as a comrade in arms. Never anything more, especially when they were alone. Sev was pretty devastated when Owain's first 'date' with her was to the blacksmith, not the town."

Lissa giggled once more at her son's fanatical obsession with the art of the blade. Even though her son was only a few years younger than her in this timeline, her rounded belly was evident that not only was Owain 2.0 in the works, but that Owain needed a place to go for a while to avoid disturbing his mother. Said myrmidon was currently polishing Mystletynne, the self-proclaimed sword that was in fact just a black Killing Edge with special engravings on the blade, to a crystal-like state, not too far away from the two but still well out of earshot.

"Was she upset?"

"Well of course! You know how Sev is, very stern and hostile but once she softens up, she's really sweet and loving. I almost felt bad at first Owain didn't stay with her but now that he's mine... I guess you could say I made the right choice."

"And so did he, I'm proud to say," Lissa said proudly, causing Morgan's blush to be as red as her mother's hair.

"Well, Sev will find someone someday... I guess. She is still way prettier than me, even at our maturing age." Lissa laughed, not a wrinkle or crease on her youthful facade.

"Speak for Fred and Uncle Chrom over there..."

The Exalt was sighing over a giant stack of paperwork Frederick had dumped on his desk, Falchion resting open his side and glowing even through its sheath. Even at 39, Chrom's face showed a youthful side to it, but the stresses of the war along with the loss of his friends, especially Robin, had taken a toll on his composure. Where smooth skin lay in the past, now a noticeable crease outlined his usual scowl, and the blue hair of the exalt was now less saturated as grey had begun its attack, slow and quiet. He slouched slightly when he stood, not just because of age but the stress of bearing the fate of the nation, along with its politics, on his shoulders... far from the simple fatigue of combat.

Frederick on the other hand was the epitome of elegant ageing. At 45, the Knight was as keen and observant as he was back when he served Emmeryn. He had noticeable wrinkles and graying sideburns alongside a fading goatee which added to both his wisdom, age, and threatening aura. He still wore his uniform underneath his noticeably scarred armor, and expertly kept his hands at parade rest when not being addressed by the royal family.

"Frederick, as to what catastrophe did this enormous hassle exist from?" Chrom was tempted to draw Falchion for the first time in years and end his misery right there, but decided against it.

"M'lord, as you know, Morgan's experiments with teleportation had progressed into actual developments. However, while immensely productive, the majority of said tests involved vegetables, livestock, and in one case the Duke of Rosanne's small clothes being phased into infinity, quite a ways off from the intended destination."

"Remind me what she was doing teleporting Virion." Chrom rubbed his temples stiffly, not caring at all whether a few potatoes were missing but more so why Morgan would use other's property when her own backyard was a farm.

"M'lord, she was seeing whether she could teleport him to Rosanne." Chrom peeked over at the mage, still giggling with his sister.

"Which she did manage to do, minus the small clothes," Frederick added for clarification.

At this moment, two manaketes nearly ran through the palace doors, the guards wise to stand out of their way as their identities were already known. Chrom along with Frederick snapped to attention, the latter bowing humbly at Tiki's presence.

"M'lord Chrom, we have a grim situation." Chrom recognized both Tiki and Nah, but noticed that Nowi was missing. That was unimportant, for now.

"Ah yes, have you three returned from the Table so soon?" Earlier in the year, the three Manaketes all detected a flux in Naga's essence simultaneously, so they requested an expedition to the same mountain where Chrom had performed the Awakening, which was where Naga's strength was the most evident.

"It's not that M'lord, we arrived too late..." Chrom raised his eyebrows in question, and the whole hall lay quiet as a slight ruffling was heard in the distance.

"Nowi," Frederick stated flatly, recognizing his wife's Dragon form in a heartbeat. "But who's on her back?" Rarely, Nowi would let Frederick ride her in Dragon form, so this stranger... Wait. Green hair, white dress. Her head was bouncing along limply with the flight, as if she were asleep. Wait, not asleep...

"In Naga's name! M'lady Lissa! We have wounded!" Frederick yelled just as Nowi entered the threshold of the throne room with whoever was on her back dismounting unceremoniously to the floor, with barely enough time for Chrom to catch her.

"M'lady, you seem to be bleeding profusely... Wait..." Chrom almost dropped her in shock, quickly recomposing himself.

"Lady Naga!?" Lissa immediately started healing the divine dragon as well as she could, but mortal magic only helped to stabilize Naga's condition, not heal it. Chrom shook his head in fear and shock. The last time Naga appeared vulnerable was when the Shepherds rescued an alternate timeline's version of their children from Grima... Which meant...

"He's back?" Chrom whispered in anguish. No, gods please... No- Wait. If Grima was back, that means Robin...

Suddenly, Tiki's eyes glowed in an ethereal green as she levitated slightly off the ground, her surroundings glowing dim around her. Recognizing Tiki's act as a vessel to Naga, everyone walked slowly towards her, anticipating Naga's words.

"Hear me, brave Shepherds. My physical body mirrors my actual state, and I am afraid neither vessels can stem the coming threat."

"M'lady, I gladly offer my name and my sword in service to whatever needs to be done! Anything to honor those friends not with us!" Chrom knelt to the ground, Falchion unsheathed for the first time in years and planted firmly into the tiles of the hall.

"Chrom, bearer of the Falchion, as I stated before, I am no god, as was Grima."

"Has Grima returned, M'lady?"

"Not as I had feared when I was first wounded, only now I realize. In this realm, I, Naga, the Divine Dragon, and Grima, The Fell Dragon, had lived in relative equilibrium over this continent. I, along with Tiki, had watched kings and heroes live and die for the pursuit of peace, which had been won by both their hands and by their blood. However, with the death of Grima, I had foolishly let my guard down in the dragon realm, only for myself to be attacked by a spirit I had not seen in this continent since its existence."

"So that means... Grima is still dead?" Morgan asked, hopeful that maybe with Grima's resurrection, Robin might appear again. She would gladly take down Grima if it were to bring back her father.

"Yes child, I am thankful so. But do not worry, your father is still battling in the spirit realm, ever making his way back to the physical world. A battle I cannot aid, nor monitor. But something he did must have triggered my attention lest I would not have noticed his presence. Some surge in power, followed by a fluctuation of essence, the same pulse the three manaketes heard. This being which I have assumed was your father, has not only transcended between realms, but his spirit has grown from man to dragon. All he has to do now is reacquire his physical form and revive it." Morgan smiled slightly at this news, her faith rekindled, though it never really was extinguished.

"But if Grima is not awoken or alive, then what threat does Ylisse face now, M'lady?" Chrom asked.

"The dragon who attacked me does not seek to end the world as Grima did... But as his teeth sunk into my back I could feel the energy sapping from me, his aura too great to be merely Divine. Somewhere, not in the land of the Hero King, nor in the land of the Radiant Hero, but in a faraway place, lies a dragon, neither fell nor divine, who seeks to subjugate humanity by its desires and rule as its self-made god. My friends, my heroes... This cannot come to pass. Already, kingdoms have been turned into its foothold over mankind, and already, empires have fallen and sword turned on owner in bitter pointless war. You cannot let this contagion spread to Akaneia- Ylisse."

"M'lady, do you know where this contagion takes root?" Chrom asked, trying to formulate a plan.

"Alas, I do not. My attacker struck while I was inattentive, causing me to lose direction and focus instantly. All I know is that his scent, his aura, has not made itself present in any realm since we have claimed this earth. But know this, Shepherds... I expect this attacker will kill me the next time he catches my scent... Which is why I have a request."

"We are in your debt, Lady Naga! Just show us the way!"

"I have already told you that civilizations surrounding you do not house this attack. However, those Eirhenjar you collected, their stories and their heroes may grant knowledge as to their respective Dragon spirits. Perhaps your best option... No, your only option, is to seek out those continents... I beg of you to."

"Naga, Falchion was forged to defeat the fell dragon. Without you or the fell dragon in context of this new threat, what is to be our course of action?" Chrom asked.

No response.

"M'lady?" Tiki's eyes flickered before they slowly faded, Naga's influence on her leaving the manakete exhausted. The elder manakete fell to the ground, visibly in shock of the surprise possession, but more in shock of experiencing Naga's pain first hand. She struggled to breathe, and had no control over her limbs as she writhed in agony on the tiles as Lissa tried to stabilize her as well. Chrom acknowledged the scene sadly and turned to Morgan, still contemplating whether or not her father could have returned with the emergence of this threat.

"Wait... He has to be back then! Robin is not Grima, but he still contains his dragon's blood in his veins!" Morgan yelled to herself excitedly. "With the emergence of Naga, that could only mean that Robin has revealed her - being her counterpart - to the dragons in this universe!"

"What are you getting at, Morgan?"

"Father may have endangered Naga when he regained control of himself. That surge of power must've had a shockwave effect that was detectable by the other dragons in the universe, like a stone in a pond! Since Naga barely interacts outside of this continent, that ripple should've attracted the dragons to her previously docile location! As Robin isn't a dragon, naturally one of them attacked her by mistake in attempts to claim power... In the absence of a fell dragon."

Morgan didn't want to think that Robin was the cause of Naga's encounter with mortality, but if it meant her Father was back, it was a price she was willing to pay.

"I have a plan, Lord Chrom that may help us all." Morgan smiled faintly, grabbing the tome from her robe that she now always kept with her.

"What do you intend to do?" Chrom asked, fearful that he already knew the answer.

"I'm going to blink the Shepherds to each known continent. Groups of 3, just like Father devised. Accountability and accuracy are essential in this mission, but not as much as speed..." Morgan slowly progressed to tactician mode as she rapidly formulated a plan.

"Mobility is a must, after all, returning to Ylisse is mandatory for mission completion and information reports. If there is in fact a fell dragon at each continent like there is a divine one... That means each continent acts as each dragon's domain, which means each territory should be marked somehow... Followers, like the Grimleal perhaps? Priests, secret orders, just like Libra for Naga... Wait. The Falchion glows brightest when in the presence of a dragon. But how do we know if its the one attacking Naga... A place where a dragon hasn't been seen... Like an invisible kingdom? Or just silent and blind?"

Chrom struggled to keep up with this information, but he was pretty sure he wasn't the one being addressed.  _Robin, what in the hell did those genes create?_

Suddenly, Morgan yelped.

"Give me all the maps we have... to EVERYWHERE!" By this time, Frederick had already scrambled the Shepherds into the hall, and he announced that they should be coming within 90 minutes fully ready to go and ready to move.

"Belay that order Frederick... Tell them to pack heavy. And to bring something unique to them only. I'll need a way to bring them back, somehow."

"Uh... Morgan, how do you know that your teleporting magic will get them where they need to go?" Morgan merely smiled as she turned around and outstretched her hand casually.

"Do me a favor and don't move.

Owain, dear, outstretch your hand like such." The swordsman shrugged, stretching his hand like Morgan was. The tactician turned her back to them and took a deep breath, closing her eyes. She exhaled just as sharply.

"Uh, Morgan?" Chrom began, before feeling the familiar weight by his hip suddenly disappear. Falchion lay perfectly in Owain's hand, and as he was of royal blood, the blade sang in his tight clutch. A moment later, it disappeared and Chrom felt Falchion reappear in his sheath.

"My father's back, Lord Chrom. That should be reason enough for me to accomplish this mission."

* * *

"That... Almost makes sense." Robin muttered quietly, as the Pegasus landed right in front of the palace. "But that doesn't explain why you're still here."

* * *

Eirhenjar, the spirits summoned from cards collected in the Outrealm during their journey, were actually the stories of foreign heroes and leaders long ago and more importantly, far away. Far enough that their stories turned into legend, which the cards helped to solidify as fact, and reality, when their respective spectre was confronted.

"Gerome, Brady, Nah. Have you heard of the legend of the Binding Blade?"

"Queen Lyndis and King Eliwood's son uhh... Roy?" Brady replied hesitantly. Gerome got a map from her that read  _Elibe._

"He's our boy," Nah remarked coyly. With that, Morgan exhaled sharply and the three were gone.

On Morgan's desk lay Gerome's mask, Brady's violin bow, and Nah's childhood dragonstone, relics of recovery, she coined, in which there was enough of their personality and existence that she could actively trace where they were just by tapping her whole mind into the spirit realm, access granted courtesy of her father's blood. It was not too different of Tiki listening for Naga, except that Morgan would be listening for Shepherds and finding their location using their respective objects instead of their desires. Significantly harder, but Morgan would make sure every chance she took was 100% certain.

"Laurent, Yarne. Noire." The sorcerer and the Taguel stepped up to the tactician, nervously awaiting their destination. The archer merely paled behind.

"I'm sure you've read into the Genealogy of the Holy War." Laurent nodded enthusiastically.

"Of course. It only seems logical that with the dragons that bonded with the humans, none showed ill..." Yarne opened up his map, which read  _Jugdral._ With a sharp exhale, they were gone.

They left behind Laurent's research notes and Yarne's fur, carefully stored. Noire's 'courage charm' dangled next to everything else.

"Cynthia, Kjelle, Princess Lucina. Lord Ephraim and Lady Eirika ring any bells?"

"The Legend of the Sacred Stones..." Lucina muttered quietly. To Kjelle, Eirika was a hero she always aspired to match. Meeting her in battle in the Outrealms boosted her morale infinitely. Cynthia viewed them all as legends without a doubt. Opening their map,  _Magvel_ , the last thing they heard was a sharp exhale.

Kjelle left behind her javelin, while Cynthia left one of her many texts of the Hero King. Lucina left what was left of her broken mask on the table. And a King with a worried heart, not to mention a Marc with an anxious return.

"And now the hard part. O-Owain, Inigo, Sev."

"Do Byakuya and Anya sound familiar?"

"No..."

"Uh... No."

"No.

"I'm afraid that was the case. There was this legend that mentioned to countries. No Eirhenjar, no heroes, no legends. There is only one text of its actual existence, and it mentions it only once. Likewise, the map given doesn't even tell much, just that there's Byakuya and Anya. Maybe even a third or fourth country, and I don't even know if the continent's name is in the texts. Being that the map is crap, I can't even guarantee you'll land on solid ground..."  _Damn, I hoped one of them could help me out with pinpointing where in the world that was..._

Morgan decided not to warp them; she had too little of a coordinate, and knew too much of what would happen if she warped her friends into a nothingness or even worse, missed her mark completely and sunk them in the ocean or asphyxiated them in solid ground. She wouldn't take that risk. Especially not with Owain.

"Wait," Owain stated, knowing something Morgan didn't. Turning to Inigo and Severa, he explained happily, "Our yukatas! Such garments, that merchant Anna said were created with such immense... POWER ufufufu, anyway, doesn't yukata sound similar to the same dialect Byakuya could be? Well, at least to me. I have not the slightest whether your fabrics contained the same potential as mine own. I had to bind myself to the yukata anyway. Such a robe of sheer power could only be contained by myself, as you see. But it is not the yukata alone that granted me foresight that day we went to the springs... Do you remember the name of the elixir that Anna anointed us with to turn our hairs dark as night yet as bright as the sun?"

Inigo and Severa weren't sure how to answer this. Owain was going on another 'Sword Hand' rambles, a quirk they thought he stopped long before. Morgan must've been crazy enough to awaken it, the amount of time she spent with him.

"Uh... Hair. Dye?" Severa offered annoyed.

"Hair dye." Inigo confirmed.

"Well, lowly fools, the merchant Anna poured what she called 'Midnight Glare' on my head, and lo, our heads were as black as night yet shone like the stars! Is that a coincidence, I think not!"

"Owain, uhh, you're going way too deep on this," Inigo complained.

"No, he's right... I remember some books on Chon'Sin techniques back when I trained as a Trueblade. Enough that I can probably understand a little amount of it if they're the same dialects... I can't really break it down but Byakuya would translate to something to a White Night..." Severa began.

"Midnight Glare, White Night... Byakuya... That's one and the same! Morgan, think you can pinpoint that from what we've given?" The Pegasus Knight questioned.

"No... But that  _Yukata_. It does sound of the same cultural dialect as Byakuya... White Night... Can you bring me your Yukatas? I know all three of you have one!"

Inigo and Owain left quickly while Severa left on her Pegasus towards the house. Owain found his rather immediately, being one of his prized possessions and all. Inigo, after a longer effort, found his at the bottom of a pile of unwanted clothes.

"White Night," Inigo ranted, "That does not even make sense." Owain shook his head in laughter as they made their way back to Morgan.

"That is because you do not understand power... You see? White Night is an oxymoron! The same impossibilities of a night being as day is the same power they put on our heads when they anointed us with that elixir! Did you not feel your blood boiling and the spirits call out to you when you donned the garb of legend?"

"No."

"A shame, it seems." Turning to Morgan, he winked at her and grinned. "Tell me, fair Morgan, that I may ask. A Night that is like day, what does it ensue?"

"Uhh... Deception?" Morgan offered. Inigo questioned their rhetoric but Owain seemed thrilled.

"IMMENSELY CORRECT. MORGAN YOU ARE BOTH POWERFUL AND KEEN... *ahem* that you would figure out the riddle of Byakuya that quickly. As I can tell, this nation seeks power by deception, much like this dragon seeking control over humanity! Who is to say that Hoshido is not the root of this evil? We must purge it and save our lands! Morgan, my love, YOU MUST FIND OUR DESTINY!"

"I will admit Owain, you piled so much BS together that it's starting to make sense..." Inigo muttered to himself. He took out his Yukata, something he hadn't worn since the Hot Springs. He handed it to Morgan to examine, likewise with Owain. Feeling something in Owain's Yukata, she pulled out a dark vial of elixir that the two men quickly recognized as the 'hair dye.'

"Be careful my love, such power in your hands and you may cease this castle's existence! Quickly, to me!" Morgan shooed him off as she read the bottom of the Elixir.

"On a path to darkness, the empty white throne?" Morgan read aloud.

"Can't say I've heard that before," Inigo admitted.

"You humble creatures, it is yet another allusion to the evil that must be stopped in Bya-"

"That's enough, Owain."

"You know, this Elixir really is just hair dye... I'm not sure whether to believe the rest of your implications, or just trust you."

"My sweet Morgan, you must trust all of us on this quest to save ourselves from everything else!" He hugged Morgan tight, and before she could help it, her breath got cut off and got replaced by her sudden exhale. Her eyes shot to the Yukatas, and Owain's Killing Edge- Mystletaine. Weren't Killing Edges the only singled edged sword in the army? Wait.

_Oh no._

Inigo and Owain looked at each other before they disappeared, their yukatas still in Morgan's hands.

_Oh shit._


	4. The Sword by my Side

The air rushed fast enough past Robin that it made his ears sting in the cold wind, so he hid behind the body of his daughter as the Pegasus raced through the sky to better shield his head. Looking closely at her armor, he realized he had seen this particular pattern of engraving before, likewise with the fabric on the skirt and boots.

Just, on someone else.

Could it be?

"Where'd you get this armor?" Robin asked curiously. Severa sighed and craned her neck to face him slightly. Her slight grin was visible, lined with both pride and mischief.

"When mom hung up the lance, I kinda... stole the whole package when I took it up. I mean, what's a knight without armor? I had to look like my work amounted to something more than riding a winged horse, right? Mom didn't mind. She said, well after the rant about me stealing it, that it looks great on me, minus the breastplate. She wanted it fixed as a reminder of her false obsession with Chrom."

Robin noticed that the chest plate had been altered to a slimmer less obtuse shape, clearly in disdain of her mother's deceptive armor's purpose. The rest of it was maintained expertly, though Robin noticed she intentionally left the nicks and scratches from its original owner's campaigns, perhaps as a sign of gratitude or remembrance towards her mother's devotion to her sisters in arms. Still, he didn't want to stare at his daughter's chest, but he imagined Cordelia wearing the same armor, fighting by his side. If only she didn't have that distracting breastplate, she would've been as perfect in battle regalia as her soul was.

"Ah, I never understood her logic behind it either," Robin admitted. Granted, she wasn't exactly gifted in the buxom department, but Cordelia was still immensely beautiful in her own way...

Severa fumed as her father started daydreaming, pouting quietly as she turned her attention back to the front. Just one mention of Cordelia and he was already in his own little world... Just in time, Ylisstol made itself visible in the horizon, so Severa started making her descent. Robin noticed this and stared at the castle intently. The last time he was in there was when they departed for their conquest of Valm.

_It's been such a long time..._

"Who's there right now?" Robin wondered aloud, anticipating the infinite number of reunions he was about to have.

"Well actually, the new Shepherds have been out on sortie, you know, Inigo, Gerome, Nah, Noire, Cynthia, Owain..." Robin winced at his new son-in-law's name. "Yarne, Laurent, Kjelle, Brady, et cetera. I join them when the Morgans are busy, but usually Morgan is the team leader and on super super special occasions, Lucina joins up with us, accompanied by that pimping son of yours."

"What's their mission's objective?" Robin asked, ignoring Severa's snide remark towards Marc.

For starters it's involving exploration beyond the borders of the entire continent. I mean, it makes sense if Valm is to our west and the Radiant Hero bears from somewhere to out north... What other legends are there to discover? What lands, what knowledge can we divulge from our surroundings? N-not like it matters to you Dad... You're probably too tired to care what's out there."

"The only thing that matters is my family. But, if I may ask, how do the Shepherds expect to go thousands of miles across seas and deserts and jungle, and expect them to return safely?" Severa anticipated this and fired back instantly, smiling from her father's initial statement.

"Luckily, Morgan's been at work perfecting some sort of teleportation magic, you know, like mage blinking but on a much farther and time consuming scale. With enough concentration, she could probably warp you to some random field in Plegia in a blink of an eye if you give her enough Elixir. You might also find yourself partially embedded in a mountain, which is also quite equally sudden."

Robin coughed nervously, rather impressed with his daughter but at the same time skeptical that the New Shepherds would use an ability so unrefined... Unless of course...

"And how important is this mission that Chrom would insist upon it?"

"Enough that Frederick scrambled most of the Shepherds moments after Lady Naga manifested herself in the Throne Room, a few inches away from death, muttering something about, 'More than just Grima.'"

* * *

Princess Lissa, the title far too youthful for her age of 36, watched the passerby as she made idle chatter with the woman across from her; Morgan. Although nearly 17 years had passed since the events of the Fell Dragon, her ladylike manner and appearance still had room for a number of undignified behaviors.

One of them being gossiping.

Another one being giggling.

Both of which birds that were being slain by her metaphorical stone. And discreetly at that, as the table they sat on was right across from Chrom's study and Lucina's bedroom, which was on the throne room floor overlooking all of the bustle in and out of the castle.

"And what I've heard from both Marc and you, Severa is still interested in Owain! Looks like you beat her to the prize, eh?" Morgan blushed heavily, and even at her older age the prospect of romance was both foreign and strange. Theoretically speaking, she had only lived in memory of the last 18-19 years of her life, or whenever she appeared to the Shepherds along with Marc when the Plegian campaign was still heavily in course, so romance at this mental state of her life was a given.

"Owain always thought as Severa as a comrade in arms. Never anything more, especially when they were alone. Sev was pretty devastated when Owain's first 'date' with her was to the blacksmith, not the town."

Lissa giggled once more at her son's fanatical obsession with the art of the blade. Even though her son was only a few years younger than her in this timeline, her rounded belly was evident that not only was Owain 2.0 in the works, but that Owain needed a place to go for a while to avoid disturbing his mother. Said myrmidon was currently polishing Mystletynne, the self-proclaimed sword that was in fact just a black Killing Edge with special engravings on the blade, to a crystal-like state, not too far away from the two but still well out of earshot.

"Was she upset?"

"Well of course! You know how Sev is, very stern and hostile but once she softens up, she's really sweet and loving. I almost felt bad at first Owain didn't stay with her but now that he's mine... I guess you could say I made the right choice."

"And so did he, I'm proud to say," Lissa said proudly, causing Morgan's blush to be as red as her mother's hair.

"Well, Sev will find someone someday... I guess. She is still way prettier than me, even at our maturing age." Lissa laughed, not a wrinkle or crease on her youthful facade.

"Speak for Fred and Uncle Chrom over there..."

The Exalt was sighing over a giant stack of paperwork Frederick had dumped on his desk, Falchion resting open his side and glowing even through its sheath. Even at 39, Chrom's face showed a youthful side to it, but the stresses of the war along with the loss of his friends, especially Robin, had taken a toll on his composure. Where smooth skin lay in the past, now a noticeable crease outlined his usual scowl, and the blue hair of the exalt was now less saturated as grey had begun its attack, slow and quiet. He slouched slightly when he stood, not just because of age but the stress of bearing the fate of the nation, along with its politics, on his shoulders... far from the simple fatigue of combat.

Frederick on the other hand was the epitome of elegant ageing. At 45, the Knight was as keen and observant as he was back when he served Emmeryn. He had noticeable wrinkles and graying sideburns alongside a fading goatee which added to both his wisdom, age, and threatening aura. He still wore his uniform underneath his noticeably scarred armor, and expertly kept his hands at parade rest when not being addressed by the royal family.

"Frederick, as to what catastrophe did this enormous hassle exist from?" Chrom was tempted to draw Falchion for the first time in years and end his misery right there, but decided against it.

"M'lord, as you know, Morgan's experiments with teleportation had progressed into actual developments. However, while immensely productive, the majority of said tests involved vegetables, livestock, and in one case the Duke of Rosanne's small clothes being phased into infinity, quite a ways off from the intended destination."

"Remind me what she was doing teleporting Virion." Chrom rubbed his temples stiffly, not caring at all whether a few potatoes were missing but more so why Morgan would use other's property when her own backyard was a farm.

"M'lord, she was seeing whether she could teleport him to Rosanne." Chrom peeked over at the mage, still giggling with his sister.

"Which she did manage to do, minus the small clothes," Frederick added for clarification.

At this moment, two manaketes nearly ran through the palace doors, the guards wise to stand out of their way as their identities were already known. Chrom along with Frederick snapped to attention, the latter bowing humbly at Tiki's presence.

"M'lord Chrom, we have a grim situation." Chrom recognized both Tiki and Nah, but noticed that Nowi was missing. That was unimportant, for now.

"Ah yes, have you three returned from the Table so soon?" Earlier in the year, the three Manaketes all detected a flux in Naga's essence simultaneously, so they requested an expedition to the same mountain where Chrom had performed the Awakening, which was where Naga's strength was the most evident.

"It's not that M'lord, we arrived too late..." Chrom raised his eyebrows in question, and the whole hall lay quiet as a slight ruffling was heard in the distance.

"Nowi," Frederick stated flatly, recognizing his wife's Dragon form in a heartbeat. "But who's on her back?" Rarely, Nowi would let Frederick ride her in Dragon form, so this stranger... Wait. Green hair, white dress. Her head was bouncing along limply with the flight, as if she were asleep. Wait, not asleep...

"In Naga's name! M'lady Lissa! We have wounded!" Frederick yelled just as Nowi entered the threshold of the throne room with whoever was on her back dismounting unceremoniously to the floor, with barely enough time for Chrom to catch her.

"M'lady, you seem to be bleeding profusely... Wait..." Chrom almost dropped her in shock, quickly recomposing himself.

"Lady Naga!?" Lissa immediately started healing the divine dragon as well as she could, but mortal magic only helped to stabilize Naga's condition, not heal it. Chrom shook his head in fear and shock. The last time Naga appeared vulnerable was when the Shepherds rescued an alternate timeline's version of their children from Grima... Which meant...

"He's back?" Chrom whispered in anguish. No, gods please... No- Wait. If Grima was back, that means Robin...

Suddenly, Tiki's eyes glowed in an ethereal green as she levitated slightly off the ground, her surroundings glowing dim around her. Recognizing Tiki's act as a vessel to Naga, everyone walked slowly towards her, anticipating Naga's words.

"Hear me, brave Shepherds. My physical body mirrors my actual state, and I am afraid neither vessels can stem the coming threat."

"M'lady, I gladly offer my name and my sword in service to whatever needs to be done! Anything to honor those friends not with us!" Chrom knelt to the ground, Falchion unsheathed for the first time in years and planted firmly into the tiles of the hall.

"Chrom, bearer of the Falchion, as I stated before, I am no god, as was Grima."

"Has Grima returned, M'lady?"

"Not as I had feared when I was first wounded, only now I realize. In this realm, I, Naga, the Divine Dragon, and Grima, The Fell Dragon, had lived in relative equilibrium over this continent. I, along with Tiki, had watched kings and heroes live and die for the pursuit of peace, which had been won by both their hands and by their blood. However, with the death of Grima, I had foolishly let my guard down in the dragon realm, only for myself to be attacked by a spirit I had not seen in this continent since its existence."

"So that means... Grima is still dead?" Morgan asked, hopeful that maybe with Grima's resurrection, Robin might appear again. She would gladly take down Grima if it were to bring back her father.

"Yes child, I am thankful so. But do not worry, your father is still battling in the spirit realm, ever making his way back to the physical world. A battle I cannot aid, nor monitor. But something he did must have triggered my attention lest I would not have noticed his presence. Some surge in power, followed by a fluctuation of essence, the same pulse the three manaketes heard. This being which I have assumed was your father, has not only transcended between realms, but his spirit has grown from man to dragon. All he has to do now is reacquire his physical form and revive it." Morgan smiled slightly at this news, her faith rekindled, though it never really was extinguished.

"But if Grima is not awoken or alive, then what threat does Ylisse face now, M'lady?" Chrom asked.

"The dragon who attacked me does not seek to end the world as Grima did... But as his teeth sunk into my back I could feel the energy sapping from me, his aura too great to be merely Divine. Somewhere, not in the land of the Hero King, nor in the land of the Radiant Hero, but in a faraway place, lies a dragon, neither fell nor divine, who seeks to subjugate humanity by its desires and rule as its self-made god. My friends, my heroes... This cannot come to pass. Already, kingdoms have been turned into its foothold over mankind, and already, empires have fallen and sword turned on owner in bitter pointless war. You cannot let this contagion spread to Akaneia- Ylisse."

"M'lady, do you know where this contagion takes root?" Chrom asked, trying to formulate a plan.

"Alas, I do not. My attacker struck while I was inattentive, causing me to lose direction and focus instantly. All I know is that his scent, his aura, has not made itself present in any realm since we have claimed this earth. But know this, Shepherds... I expect this attacker will kill me the next time he catches my scent... Which is why I have a request."

"We are in your debt, Lady Naga! Just show us the way!"

"I have already told you that civilizations surrounding you do not house this attack. However, those Eirhenjar you collected, their stories and their heroes may grant knowledge as to their respective Dragon spirits. Perhaps your best option... No, your only option, is to seek out those continents... I beg of you to."

"Naga, Falchion was forged to defeat the fell dragon. Without you or the fell dragon in context of this new threat, what is to be our course of action?" Chrom asked.

No response.

"M'lady?" Tiki's eyes flickered before they slowly faded, Naga's influence on her leaving the manakete exhausted. The elder manakete fell to the ground, visibly in shock of the surprise possession, but more in shock of experiencing Naga's pain first hand. She struggled to breathe, and had no control over her limbs as she writhed in agony on the tiles as Lissa tried to stabilize her as well. Chrom acknowledged the scene sadly and turned to Morgan, still contemplating whether or not her father could have returned with the emergence of this threat.

"Wait... He has to be back then! Robin is not Grima, but he still contains his dragon's blood in his veins!" Morgan yelled to herself excitedly. "With the emergence of Naga, that could only mean that Robin has revealed her - being her counterpart - to the dragons in this universe!"

"What are you getting at, Morgan?"

"Father may have endangered Naga when he regained control of himself. That surge of power must've had a shockwave effect that was detectable by the other dragons in the universe, like a stone in a pond! Since Naga barely interacts outside of this continent, that ripple should've attracted the dragons to her previously docile location! As Robin isn't a dragon, naturally one of them attacked her by mistake in attempts to claim power... In the absence of a fell dragon."

Morgan didn't want to think that Robin was the cause of Naga's encounter with mortality, but if it meant her Father was back, it was a price she was willing to pay.

"I have a plan, Lord Chrom that may help us all." Morgan smiled faintly, grabbing the tome from her robe that she now always kept with her.

"What do you intend to do?" Chrom asked, fearful that he already knew the answer.

"I'm going to blink the Shepherds to each known continent. Groups of 3, just like Father devised. Accountability and accuracy are essential in this mission, but not as much as speed..." Morgan slowly progressed to tactician mode as she rapidly formulated a plan.

"Mobility is a must, after all, returning to Ylisse is mandatory for mission completion and information reports. If there is in fact a fell dragon at each continent like there is a divine one... That means each continent acts as each dragon's domain, which means each territory should be marked somehow... Followers, like the Grimleal perhaps? Priests, secret orders, just like Libra for Naga... Wait. The Falchion glows brightest when in the presence of a dragon. But how do we know if its the one attacking Naga... A place where a dragon hasn't been seen... Like an invisible kingdom? Or just silent and blind?"

Chrom struggled to keep up with this information, but he was pretty sure he wasn't the one being addressed. _Robin, what in the hell did those genes create?_

Suddenly, Morgan yelped.

"Give me all the maps we have... to EVERYWHERE!" By this time, Frederick had already scrambled the Shepherds into the hall, and he announced that they should be coming within 90 minutes fully ready to go and ready to move.

"Belay that order Frederick... Tell them to pack heavy. And to bring something unique to them only. I'll need a way to bring them back, somehow."

"Uh... Morgan, how do you know that your teleporting magic will get them where they need to go?" Morgan merely smiled as she turned around and outstretched her hand casually.

"Do me a favor and don't move.

Owain, dear, outstretch your hand like such." The swordsman shrugged, stretching his hand like Morgan was. The tactician turned her back to them and took a deep breath, closing her eyes. She exhaled just as sharply.

"Uh, Morgan?" Chrom began, before feeling the familiar weight by his hip suddenly disappear. Falchion lay perfectly in Owain's hand, and as he was of royal blood, the blade sang in his tight clutch. A moment later, it disappeared and Chrom felt Falchion reappear in his sheath.

"My father's back, Lord Chrom. That should be reason enough for me to accomplish this mission."

* * *

"That... Almost makes sense." Robin muttered quietly, as the Pegasus landed right in front of the palace. "But that doesn't explain why you're still here."

* * *

Eirhenjar, the spirits summoned from cards collected in the Outrealm during their journey, were actually the stories of foreign heroes and leaders long ago and more importantly, far away. Far enough that their stories turned into legend, which the cards helped to solidify as fact, and reality, when their respective spectre was confronted.

"Gerome, Brady, Nah. Have you heard of the legend of the Binding Blade?"

"Queen Lyndis and King Eliwood's son uhh... Roy?" Brady replied hesitantly. Gerome got a map from her that read _Elibe._

"He's our boy," Nah remarked coyly. With that, Morgan exhaled sharply and the three were gone.

On Morgan's desk lay Gerome's mask, Brady's violin bow, and Nah's childhood dragonstone, relics of recovery, she coined, in which there was enough of their personality and existence that she could actively trace where they were just by tapping her whole mind into the spirit realm, access granted courtesy of her father's blood. It was not too different of Tiki listening for Naga, except that Morgan would be listening for Shepherds and finding their location using their respective objects instead of their desires. Significantly harder, but Morgan would make sure every chance she took was 100% certain.

"Laurent, Yarne. Noire." The sorcerer and the Taguel stepped up to the tactician, nervously awaiting their destination. The archer merely paled behind.

"I'm sure you've read into the Genealogy of the Holy War." Laurent nodded enthusiastically.

"Of course. It only seems logical that with the dragons that bonded with the humans, none showed ill..." Yarne opened up his map, which read _Jugdral._ With a sharp exhale, they were gone.

They left behind Laurent's research notes and Yarne's fur, carefully stored. Noire's 'courage charm' dangled next to everything else.

"Cynthia, Kjelle, Princess Lucina. Lord Ephraim and Lady Eirika ring any bells?"

"The Legend of the Sacred Stones..." Lucina muttered quietly. To Kjelle, Eirika was a hero she always aspired to match. Meeting her in battle in the Outrealms boosted her morale infinitely. Cynthia viewed them all as legends without a doubt. Opening their map, _Magvel_ , the last thing they heard was a sharp exhale.

Kjelle left behind her javelin, while Cynthia left one of her many texts of the Hero King. Lucina left what was left of her broken mask on the table. And a King with a worried heart, not to mention a Marc with an anxious return.

"And now the hard part. O-Owain, Inigo, Sev."

"Do Byakuya and Anya sound familiar?"

"No..."

"Uh... No."

"No.

"I'm afraid that was the case. There was this legend that mentioned to countries. No Eirhenjar, no heroes, no legends. There is only one text of its actual existence, and it mentions it only once. Likewise, the map given doesn't even tell much, just that there's Byakuya and Anya. Maybe even a third or fourth country, and I don't even know if the continent's name is in the texts. Being that the map is crap, I can't even guarantee you'll land on solid ground..." _Damn, I hoped one of them could help me out with pinpointing where in the world that was..._

Morgan decided not to warp them; she had too little of a coordinate, and knew too much of what would happen if she warped her friends into a nothingness or even worse, missed her mark completely and sunk them in the ocean or asphyxiated them in solid ground. She wouldn't take that risk. Especially not with Owain.

"Wait," Owain stated, knowing something Morgan didn't. Turning to Inigo and Severa, he explained happily, "Our yukatas! Such garments, that merchant Anna said were created with such immense... POWER ufufufu, anyway, doesn't yukata sound similar to the same dialect Byakuya could be? Well, at least to me. I have not the slightest whether your fabrics contained the same potential as mine own. I had to bind myself to the yukata anyway. Such a robe of sheer power could only be contained by myself, as you see. But it is not the yukata alone that granted me foresight that day we went to the springs... Do you remember the name of the elixir that Anna anointed us with to turn our hairs dark as night yet as bright as the sun?"

Inigo and Severa weren't sure how to answer this. Owain was going on another 'Sword Hand' rambles, a quirk they thought he stopped long before. Morgan must've been crazy enough to awaken it, the amount of time she spent with him.

"Uh... Hair. Dye?" Severa offered annoyed.

"Hair dye." Inigo confirmed.

"Well, lowly fools, the merchant Anna poured what she called 'Midnight Glare' on my head, and lo, our heads were as black as night yet shone like the stars! Is that a coincidence, I think not!"

"Owain, uhh, you're going way too deep on this," Inigo complained.

"No, he's right... I remember some books on Chon'Sin techniques back when I trained as a Trueblade. Enough that I can probably understand a little amount of it if they're the same dialects... I can't really break it down but Byakuya would translate to something to a White Night..." Severa began.

"Midnight Glare, White Night... Byakuya... That's one and the same! Morgan, think you can pinpoint that from what we've given?" The Pegasus Knight questioned.

"No... But that _Yukata_. It does sound of the same cultural dialect as Byakuya... White Night... Can you bring me your Yukatas? I know all three of you have one!"

Inigo and Owain left quickly while Severa left on her Pegasus towards the house. Owain found his rather immediately, being one of his prized possessions and all. Inigo, after a longer effort, found his at the bottom of a pile of unwanted clothes.

"White Night," Inigo ranted, "That does not even make sense." Owain shook his head in laughter as they made their way back to Morgan.

"That is because you do not understand power... You see? White Night is an oxymoron! The same impossibilities of a night being as day is the same power they put on our heads when they anointed us with that elixir! Did you not feel your blood boiling and the spirits call out to you when you donned the garb of legend?"

"No."

"A shame, it seems." Turning to Morgan, he winked at her and grinned. "Tell me, fair Morgan, that I may ask. A Night that is like day, what does it ensue?"

"Uhh... Deception?" Morgan offered. Inigo questioned their rhetoric but Owain seemed thrilled.

"IMMENSELY CORRECT. MORGAN YOU ARE BOTH POWERFUL AND KEEN... *ahem* that you would figure out the riddle of Byakuya that quickly. As I can tell, this nation seeks power by deception, much like this dragon seeking control over humanity! Who is to say that Hoshido is not the root of this evil? We must purge it and save our lands! Morgan, my love, YOU MUST FIND OUR DESTINY!"

"I will admit Owain, you piled so much BS together that it's starting to make sense..." Inigo muttered to himself. He took out his Yukata, something he hadn't worn since the Hot Springs. He handed it to Morgan to examine, likewise with Owain. Feeling something in Owain's Yukata, she pulled out a dark vial of elixir that the two men quickly recognized as the 'hair dye.'

"Be careful my love, such power in your hands and you may cease this castle's existence! Quickly, to me!" Morgan shooed him off as she read the bottom of the Elixir.

"On a path to darkness, the empty white throne?" Morgan read aloud.

"Can't say I've heard that before," Inigo admitted.

"You humble creatures, it is yet another allusion to the evil that must be stopped in Bya-"

"That's enough, Owain."

"You know, this Elixir really is just hair dye... I'm not sure whether to believe the rest of your implications, or just trust you."

"My sweet Morgan, you must trust all of us on this quest to save ourselves from everything else!" He hugged Morgan tight, and before she could help it, her breath got cut off and got replaced by her sudden exhale. Her eyes shot to the Yukatas, and Owain's Killing Edge- Mystletaine. Weren't Killing Edges the only singled edged sword in the army? Wait.

_Oh no._

Inigo and Owain looked at each other before they disappeared, their yukatas still in Morgan's hands.

_Oh shit._


End file.
